Gods and Monsters
by Khaleesi21
Summary: In hopes of bringing new blood to the royal line a union is struck between two once warring nations. A stranger in new lands Isabella finds she is entering the folds in a perilous hour. Odin's final days as King are ending and the violent battle for the throne is only beginning. Even in the Golden city few are to trusted and no one is as they seem. Loki/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N ((Takes place outside of the events of Thor, I wanted to explore a darker possibility on the characters and custom's of their culture.))**

Gold eyes brimming with unshed tears Isabella looked to her twin in the mirror, identical in every way save for the delicate scar just beneath Sonya's chin. Hands making swift work of the lilac colored tresses she wove the unruly hair with nimble fingers, fashioning a fishtail braid over one shoulder. Swallowing the painful lump in her throat she looked out the window the thunderous crash of the storm making the knowledge of their circumstances all the more disheartening.

"Sonya, I am afraid. Asgard is leagues away I will never see you again!"

Kissing her cheek Sonya wrapped her arms around her from behind, hugging the young woman tight.

"Nonsense. I will see you at the Harvest celebration next season…I promise I will be there."

Watching the servants carry the trunks out of the room Sonja did her best to sooth her sibling's frazzled nerves. All their lives they'd had one another and now it was all changing. Their lives were being ripped apart, all for the choices of men.

"There's been no time to prepare, surely you can convince Father to postpone?" She asked desperately.

Sonya wished that were possible but she'd already tried and failed miserably. There would be no swaying their father's decision his will steadfast in its conviction. A cold and heartless man he cared nothing for his children's happiness. The lord's words still blistering against Sonja's ears.

_"I have suffered and warred with you long enough. I am doing what is best for this family. Unlike you, Isabella is obedient and will do as she is told. I've had enough of your willful and spiteful nature. It would be a great dishonor to have sent you…You've caused this family enough shame."_

_Floored by their father's cruelty, seeing it truly knew no bounds she had fought foolishly for her sisters honor.  
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_"What of Izzy? You deliver her to that monster like a lamb fit for slaughter! You would separate her from the only family she has all so you can be held in high favor by the royal family. She does not love him; she does not even know him!"_

_The outburst had cost her dearly, the deep purple bruising marring her cheek evidence of their father's wrath._

_"You will hold your tongue, least I cut it from your defiant mouth for treason! Foolish girl, the Prince does not want Isabella for something as frivolous as love. This match is being made out of need, not want. I am doing her a favor by separating the two of you, least your poisonous thoughts infect her as well."_

Defeated she had felt the ugly sting of failure long after the bruises had vanished.

Clinging to her, Sonya kissed her sister innocently on the lips.

"Just be yourself, remember to be sweet and he will see your light…he will see what a great honor it is to call you his wife."

Fingers clutching the back of her gown Isabella buried her face against Sonya's shoulder.

"I always dreamed I would fall in love…the way you did with John. Mother never would have wanted this."

Rubbing soothing circles on her back Sonya closed her eyes, his name stirring painful memories.

"You will grow to care for him Izzy…one day. Be brave sweet sister; be brave and strong for me."

The chiming of the bells in the courtyard marked the hour. Breaking apart Sonya wiped at her siblings tears. Willing her twin to stand she smoothed the layers of her skirts and helped her in to her fur-lined cloak. As if on cue their father crossed the threshold of their chamber his steel gaze raking over the two women with icy indifference. Snapping his fingers he gave the wordless command for Isabella to come two steps towards him she risked one last glance to her lifelong companion and it was then that Isabella realized this was most likely goodbye. Sonya unable to hide the look of anguish in her eyes could only turn away, hands clasped to her chest.

Even when the pair of them had left Sonya could not bring herself to move. Instead she stared off through the open window watching the dark figures of their horses until they had vanished from sight. The connection they shared pulling taunt, a thin thread on the verge of breaking. The fleeting sensation growing dimmer until it was the barest of whispers.

Be brave for me, she thought helplessly.

Be brave and strong for me.

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At her father's insistence their party rode straight through the storm, choosing to ignore the vicious whipping winds and seemingly eternal downpour. Chin tucked against her chest Isabella urged her horse forward shielding her eyes from the spitting rain, legs and back aching as the animal lumbered on. It was another hour before their guide could be heard shouting through the thunder. After a two-day trek they'd finally arrived at the gates of Asgard, the gleaming golden city a sight to behold even in the dismal weather.

Passing through the gates she marveled at the city's decadence, the vast richness of its lands. As they approached the palace her exhaustion was quickly replaced by the hushed fear of the unknown. She was a stranger to these people, someone well-regarded in suspicion and half formed opinions. By the barely veiled whispers of the servants as they dismounted their horses she knew they were judging her already. Still wearing the fashions of her homelands her attire was severely modest concealed from the collar-bone down, body hidden beneath layers of thick fabric that reached well past the ankles.

A tedious task to assemble, it normally took two servants alone to help her dress and with the fabric drenched it was made impossibly heavier causing the bone lining of the corset to dig sharply against the ribs. Only years of rigorous etiquette prevented her from uttering a single murmur of discomfort. Weakness was not tolerated in their family and Isabella knew if she embarrassed her father now there would be worse things than an ill-matched marriage.

Despite being told she would not see her betrothed until the ceremony it didn't stop Isabella from searching the faces of those waiting in the grand entryway. Not that she could have identified him anyway, having only been told the most minimal of details she could anticipate nothing. An older woman dressed in regal attire came forward; long honey colored hair braided over one shoulder her golden eyes shimmering with intrigue. Smile growing the Queen boldly peeled back the cloaks hood exposing Isabella's face to the room.

The gasp from the Asgardian's drew a hush over the room, the Queen happily breaking the silence.

Turning to study him it didn't take much to assume the girls features favored the mother. Tall and broad-shouldered Cormack was younger than her husband, hair a deep brown it had a fair peppering of grey along the edges of his temple. A sinister air of authority surrounded him, old world blood.

"My, my. Your descriptions do not do her justice Lord Cormack, for shame. I was expecting someone more cowed and frail looking. She is in fact quite the opposite." Frigga exclaimed taking the end of Isabella's braid she tested the silky texture between her fingers.

Cormack's indifferent stare shifted to something his daughter could only describe as awkward concern though it was clearly not intended for her.

"My word is my bond; I do not make contracts such as this lightly I assure you Isabella will not disappoint."

The Queen raised her brows at Cormack's words, before making a rather humiliating show of inspecting the girl's features. Taking her thumb she ran it along the girl's lower lip exposing her white teeth before she was satisfied.

"She is pure then?"

Isabella felt her cheeks burn hot at the Queens inquiry she could only hope this degrading experience met its end soon rather than later.

"Do not insult me." Cormack replied vehemently his eyes narrowing.

Frigga held her hands up feigning apology.

"Then our contract is struck…She will be escorted to the guest chambers where she will begin her preparations and you Lord Cormack are surely famished after such a long journey. Come, let us celebrate the coming union of our two families.

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Within moments of entering the room Isabella found the torturous experience was only beginning. Sitting now in a tub filled nearly to the brim she was at the mercy of the chamber maids as one of them combed a bone brush through her long hair, the sharp tugging motion causing her to wince. They'd taken her soaked dress, boots and gloves and promptly thrown them in the grand marble fireplace, along with the rest of the few items she possessed. Now they were nothing more than cinder and ash. A token from Sonya, a small locket the only thing she'd managed to save. Fighting tooth and nail to deny them the satisfaction of taking as well. They had not been pleased; she was paying for it now.

The eldest of the maids, a girl only a few years older than Isabella herself sneered down at her.

"You people from the East are nothing more than filthy half-breed fey. The All-Father is truly desperate."

The girl sorting through new gowns on the bed hissed towards the woman.

"Half-breed or not, leave the girl be. The queen hears you speaking like that and she'll have us both whipped."

The maid rolled her eyes, forcing the brush roughly against Isabella's scalp working through a non-existent tangle. The woman who had spoken was tall, with brown eyes her hair pulled into a simple bun high atop her head. Finally deciding on a gown of pale shimmering blue she set it aside before coming to the tub waving the other woman away.

Once dressed Isabella sat beside the fire where the brown-eyed woman began styling her hair weaving a complicated braid across the crown of her head leaving the rest to dry in wavy curls down her back. She observed the way the golden eyed girl stared in to the flames the reflection glowing against her milky skin.

"Do not mourn the loss of your possessions…It is a wast of time."

Speaking for the first time since arriving Isabella's voice sounded tired.

"They were the only things I was permitted to take..."

The chamber maid sighed.

"They were unfit for an Asgardian princess. You will be given new things; better things…see that you find a safe place to hide that trinket. They will not let you keep it if it is found."

Hand tightening around the small piece of metal Isabella turned to look at her.

"Why, it is doing no harm."

She was given a cool stare.

"It's a reminder of your old life, a distraction the Prince will not tolerate."

Isabella turned back towards the flickering flames as they finished consuming the last pieces of what was to be her forgotten past. Over and over again she replayed Sonya's words, praying that one day she would believe them.

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The Great Hall's chandeliers were lit brightly, the isle lined with guards in their ceremonial armor the royal court crowded behind them all eager to catch a glimpse of their new princess. Hushed whispers mixing with the soft aroma of sandalwood she made the long journey to the altar steps. Wearing a gown of shimmering gold the material clung to her body fanning out as it touched the marble floor. Vision blurred by the sheer veil embellished with topaz gemstones it cascaded down her shoulders and well past the hips. The wedding gown made of beautiful shimmering gold lace hugged her body the hemline fanning outward. Each step she took felt as if the choking fear would consume her as she came ever closer.

Approaching the altar Isabella was only able to distinguish the outline of what she could assumed was her future husband. Coming to stand beside him they were then instructed to kneel on the altar steps. With the blaring sounding of trumpets the All-Father himself came before them the Queen just off to the side, someone standing just beside her their hands clasped behind their back.

Isabella's own hands trembled in her lap as she willed them to calm she was taken by surprise when the Prince reached beneath the veil his head never turning he took her small delicate hand in his. There was a fleeting moment of tacit compassion before the seemingly tender grasp became crushingly strong. Forcing her gaze to remain forward she pressed her lips in to a thin line. An eternity passing before Odin was willing them to stand and the people of Asgard roared with thunderous applause. Turning towards the Prince, Isabella heart pounded against her chest as he released her hand and raising the veil up and over she was finally graced with the sight of the man she had been told to hold in the highest regard, to worship above all things.

Her Prince, her husband, her possessor.

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**A/N ((Who should it be? Thor or Loki?))**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N ((Rated strongly for explicit sexual situations. I own nothing.))**

The rich scent of leather mingling with the masculine undertone of cloves just beneath it reached her senses as he leaned forward, lips barely brushing against the corner of her mouth. The action cold and apathetic. The voices of citizen's drowned out the steady pounding of her heart though she anticipated by the way his emerald eyes darkened he could feel it regardless. Strangely absent of stubble or beard she was able to see his features very clearly. Decorative scars marred his skin; a series of lines running in circular pattern along the forehead flowing down along the temples. Following the trail with her eyes she saw they carried down the curve of his jaw, the trail disappearing just beneath the fabric of his tunic.

Whether they were mystical birthmarks or self-inflicted she could not be certain. Most women would be put off by such a sight but Isabella was not among them. She felt oddly intrigued by their origins, finding them beautiful in their own rights. They gave the Prince a certain arresting quality. Inwardly Isabella had hoped to see some sense of approval from him but the simple brush of his lips and sparring glance was all he would lend her. Turning to face the crowds they descended the steps together until they reached the wrought iron doors she watched as he turned on his heel making long strides in the opposite direction. Left to stand awkwardly in the doorway Isabella watched his retreating form, the Queens voice prickling against the skin of her cheek.

"My son is quite impressed with his new bride."

Blinking a few times she felt entirely the opposite, wisely she only nodded a brief smile her only reply. After waiting patiently Isabella was escorted down the wide hall, a pair of guard's flanking her and another pair entrusted to carry the train and veil of her gown lagging just a few feet behind. Only the brown-haired woman who had given her the advice was waiting inside. Decorated in an array of rich dark greens and gold, the room had stacks of leather-bound books lining its far wall. The floors constructed of black marble shone with heavy veins of gold running through the slabs. The room's centerpiece a four-poster bed, it reminded the Princess of a sacrificial altar its marble pillars stretched high into the vaulted ceilings.

The moment the guard's left the chamber the maid produced a small white cloth of thin muslin which she smoothed it out on the bed.

"Lie down on the cloth, you will bleed. The Queen wishes to make sure the union is valid."

Rounding the bed she wasted no time in removing the pins from Isabella's hair, making quick work of dismantling her elaborate braids and gown until the Princess sat atop the bed hair left loose in wavy curls. Jumping at the sound of the double doors opening, Isabella watched as Prince strode into the room.

Ignoring her completely he addressed the maid.

"Leave us, now."

Without a backward glance the maid gathered her skirts hurrying from the room. She was not so much obeying orders as she was fleeing from his presence. Stopping at the foot of the bed Loki's fingers deftly worked through the complex clasps of his leather armor. Shrugging it off his shoulders he let it fall to the floor, the black shirt he wore beneath it soon to follow. Isabella felt her throat grow tight as her eyes were able to gaze at the marbled expanse of his chest. The decorative scars did indeed continue lower well beyond the waistline of his trousers.

In a flash of panic Isabella spoke. "I do not know what to do."

Standing naked at the foot of the bed hands left loose at his side, Loki finally acknowledged her.

"Stop speaking." He commanded.

Hands cool to the touch, he wrapped them around her ankles where he wrenched her further down the bed. Intuitively Isabella reached for the fabric of her sheer slip but the Prince was impossibly stronger, faster. Casting her hands aside he trapped them above her head, his body covering hers as he wedged his knee between her legs. Forcing them apart as he pinned her down.

"In fact do not speak at all…Least you remind me of what you are."

With every syllable she felt the fear rise with suffocating intensity. The breath robbed from her lungs as in one vicious thrust forced his way inside. Isabella fought not to scream, biting the inside of her cheek against the searing pain until she tasted copper upon her tongue. There was no time to grow accustomed to the brutal intrusion as he bore down, the thrust quickly building to a steady cadence. Ions passed and eventually her muffled cries began to diminish, the only sound of his ragged breathing remaining. Eyes squeezed tight her face forced to the side by the length of his forearm.

Gritting his teeth he rode her until his hips bucked once, twice, and with a low deep moan he came. Spilling his seed as his own vision became blinded by the white ecstasy. Resting the weight of his upper body against his elbow Loki sat up taking her face in his hands as he kissed her hard. Tongue snaking its way inside he was clandestinely delighted to taste the tangy sweetness of blood.

"I am truly impressed." He exclaimed, laughing.

Easing back on to his heels to sit up he took her with him ignoring her pained whimper and tear-stained face. Wrapping her legs around his waist he kissed Isabella with startling tenderness. Stroking his fingertips along her cheek he watched her pink lips quiver in trepidation. Reaching behind her he snatched up the small cloth presenting Isabella with the bright vivid stain.

"It is not the ancient words that bind us together…but 'this'. You were made to be ruled and in the end you will always kneel for me."

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Holding on to the rim of the tub, grimacing against the splintering discomfort Isabella forced her body down in to the hot water. Taking slow deep breaths, Isabella was able to move down further. Resting her forehead against the side, twenty minutes passed before the pain had finally become bearable. She was woken from her half sleep to feel the soft touch of a woman's hand.

"Lady Isabella?"

Raising her chin from the water, she turned to find not a servant, but young woman hair pulled tight in a simple ponytail. She wore a silver short pleated dress decorated in a deep crimson red leather armor. A female warrior? Surely this was a jest. The woman stood there bearing a kind smile; one that Isabella struggled to distinguish in its genuineness.

Realizing she was staring rudely Isabella responded, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, forgive me but you are not one of the Queen's ladies in waiting are you?"

Stifling a snort of humorous surprise at her question, Sif shook her head.

"By the Gods no…My name is Lady Sif. I am Prince Thor's wife."

Isabella felt embarrassed now. Here she was huddled in bathwater, insulting her new sister-in-law.

"Apologies…" She said attempting to sit up biting back a small cry.

Eyes saddening at her strained movements, Sif bent over carefully helping her to stand, encouraging Isabella to lean against her.

"Here let me help you. Don't worry about my dress, there you go, here sit down… slowly." She instructed kindheartedly, leading her towards the vanity.

Wrapping a blanket around Isabella's body Sif brushed a dripping curl of hair from her eyes. Sympathetically rubbing the other woman's shoulders her eyes were given the opportunity to witness the darkening wreath of bruises marking her pale skin.

Shock and anger flashing hot, Sif touched the dark bruising with her fingers.

"Damn him, he is a monster." Sif said, cursing under her breath.

Immediately turning to the vanity she began sorting through the many jars, selecting a small blue one. Gently dabbing the crushed peppermint salve on the blossoming bruises she compelled the disgust she felt for Loki behavior to damper.

"When he hears of this, brother or not Thor will never stand for such barbaric treatment." She proclaimed audaciously.

Filled with horror at the idea, Isabella grabbed Sif's hands in hers. Squeezing hard.

"No! You mustn't breathe a word to your husband. Please not a word." She begged.

Gently prying her hand free, Sif paused understanding then that although she detested Loki this was truly not her place to interfere. No matter how right it would be. She would have to tread lightly. Deciding to change the subject she said.

"I convinced Thor to entice Loki in a sparring match. Asgardian men cannot resist a challenge…it will keep him distracted for another hour at least; give a healer time to look at you."

Blessedly thankful for the change in topic Isabella chose instead to risk a personal question.

"There is one thing you could help me with, the intimacy. Will it always be this way…the pain, when he…when he does this."

Setting the jar of salve down, Sif reasoned it was not fair to lie to Isabella. She knew first hand others in the Palace would never have her best interests at heart. They would use the girl as a pawn.

With a sigh she answered honestly.

"It will become easier to endure…If you are docile, obey him immediately it will help. The prince has an iniquitous and voracious nature. I'm afraid he is over compensating in his cruelty."

Isabella's heart sank.

"Are all men this way?" She asked.

Frowning dejectedly, Sif shook her head.

"No, not all men. The first time is painful but it can become a wondrous and exhilarating experience if your partner is willing to be patient, loving." Sif admitted. Hoping Isabella understood she could be open with her.

While processing her words Isabella blurted out. "I do not think I could ever enjoy what he did."

An idea came then and Sif licked her lips in mild enthusiasm. Perhaps there was a way to salvage this.

"Listen to me; we as women have more power than they would have us believe. I could teach you Isabella; teach you how to show Loki you are capable of being his equal. Make it so he is less likely to bring you harm."

Confused Isabella furrowed her brow. Sif's proposition, while stirring in its theory, went against everything she had been conditioned to believe. Just contemplating the offer filled her stomach with a sense of guilt. The Queen herself had held no qualms over her son's treatment of her so why then should she risk further punishment by believing this woman? No. She would remain faithful to her appointed path.

"I appreciate your offer Lady Sif, but I must politely decline…Thank you for your kindness but I spoke out of turn. Cruelty or not, if it is my husband's resolution I must and will learn to accept it."

Rising from the bench, Isabella indicated to the other woman their conversation was over. Standing, Sif regarded her somberly, and accepted momentary defeat.

"Isabella; I would be your ally. A lamb among the lions they will tear you apart should you let them. You're more than his property. You have power."

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_One month later.._

Sitting motionless; eyes staring blindly at her food, she was in no mood this night to accept sustenance. The quail growing cold, and the wine in her goblet remained ignored. A comment exchanged between the Queen and someone at the table, her name uttered twice drew her attention outward. Breath against the curve of her neck, she flinched feeling Loki's lips press against the warm flesh there. While the kiss was visually affectionate for any curious onlookers, the biting pressure of his thumb nail pressing against the inside of her palm, hidden beneath the table was not.

Whispering against the shell of her ear, Lok's tone was piercing.

"My mother asked you a question dear Wife; I should think it in your best interest to answer."

Looking up Isabella urgently willed her face to appear calm, collected.

"My apologies your Grace…I did not hear you."

She gazed at Isabella with glinting eyes and then she smiled, her cheeks dimpling though a moment before they seemed hard as stone. As if she entertained the thought of her question. Isabella could imagine what she was thinking.

Dull and witless girl, must I always repeat myself…

But that was not what the Queen said, at least not aloud.

"I simply commented to you that I hoped my husband's terms to appoint the crown aren't impeding on your blossoming love. This time should be yours to enjoy, I fear it is my fault instilling such a competitive nature in my children."

So the torment would begin early this eve. Denying herself the luxury of avoiding the Queens stare she formed her words with great care.

"Odin is a wise and gracious ruler; I have uncompromising faith that he will appoint Loki as King. My heart swells with pride at the mere thought."

Pulse pounding in her ears, it easily became a dull roar.

The Queen lifted her goblet drinking from it.

"I have no doubt that one of you will provide me with a grandson."

In that moment Isabella didn't want to give to this woman anything. She was wholly convinced the Queen must despise her though this dislike was only second to the Lady Sif. The female warrior's constant lack of willingness to fall in line causing tension between the Queen and herself. The new terms had become a terrifying stress; deciding to award the title whoever bore the first a healthy male heir. The already spirited nature between Thor and his brother had increased ten-fold and Isabella refused to imagine failure.

It was then that she suddenly felt Loki's hand release her palm to settle between her legs. So startled by the unexpected touch Isabella struggled not to gasp aloud, cheeks flaming with a private shame at stirring it brought her. Though she knew no one could see, it did not stop Isabella from being consumed with humiliation. Turning her face towards him Loki daringly captured her lips with his, the kiss brief and telling. Breaking the kiss he looked across the table to Thor, his teeth flashing white.

A lamb among lions, they would tear her apart if she let them.


	3. Chapter 3

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A/N ((Contains mature sexual themes and f/f pairing. Enjoy!))

Kissing the warm skin of her neck, Thor nuzzled the scruff of his beard against Sif's shoulder attempting to entice a response from his brooding wife. She'd been unusually quiet since their family dinner and he couldn't blame her. He normally found more pressing matters to attend to then play part in his family's theatrical power plays. The only reason he agreed to attend at all was at his Father's beseeching. Odin's health was growing weaker by the seasons and it was already causing the realm to bristle with tension. They harbored enough enemies through the cosmos; it was no secret to the Thunder God that things could change in an instant. Keeping that in mind, he preferred not to imagine the kingdom tearing itself apart from the inside.

Growing weary of her darkening mood Thor broke the silence trying to engage the female warrior in conversation.

"We should have just told them Sif, My father would be filled with joy to hear such new. Beside they will figure it out eventually."

Arm's encircling her waist; he caressed the still barely visible swell of her belly, already eager to feel the new life growing within.

Sif gave a frustrated sigh.

"Frigga would no doubt find some way to pollute our news; she is rather fond of reminding me of the sacrilege I forced you to commit by marrying below your status. Besides the news would only serve to fuel your brother's campaign of mayhem and depravity. He torment that poor girl enough without adding fuel the fire."

As soon as the words left her lips Sif regretted them. Thor needn't be reminded of the lifelong feud that brewed between trio. Ony way or another it came to his attention.

"Thor, I'm sorry...Please forgive me I'm merely perturbed."

Releasing Sif from his arms, Thor spoke with reason he prayed she entertained.

"This childish quarrelling between you all must come to an end! I have expressed to my family I hold no regrets, there is no other I would have. Have i not sacrificed enough to show you this?! In regards to Loki, I fear you ask too much of me Sif he is my only remaining brother no matter the outcome I will stand beside him."

Taking his face in her hands Sif willed him to see reason.

"Can you tell me with utter confidence should the roles be reversed he would do the same for you? It frightens me to see how truly blind you are to what he is capable of! He will take the love you hold for him and use it to hurt us..."

Thor looked at Sif as he did not recognize her; irrationally unwilling to accept her words he pushed her hands away. Displeasure plainly written on his face.

"We will not speak of this again, do you understand me Sif...You may be my wife, but Loki is my brother I will **not** hear no more."

Turning around he took long strides towards the door, knowing if he stayed a moment longer he would say something they would both come to regret. Covering her mouth Sif gave a silent cry, the blatant aggravation of her husbands naivety making it feel insufferable. Thor must see reason, she thought. The words becoming a mantra she repeated over and over again. She knew despite his cross words Thor loved her more than life itself and it tore at her heart to tarnish the image he had built of Loki, but the facts remained. Free of his brother's pure sentiment Loki would gladly burn everything to ashes, salt the earth they stood on simply for spite. Love could be a dangerous thing, and the God of Lies would use it no differently then he would a dagger.

How could he not see what so plainly laid at his feet?

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Standing the muted light of the small chamber she knew this was the only way she could reclaim her life. Acquire some semblance of serenity. Perhaps it was foolish pride but she felt compelled to prove herself worthy, and despite the way her marriage had begun Isabella refused to accept defeat. Looking past everything she had ever been taught she whispered the forbidden words again. Inwardly enjoying the excitement it brought her to say them.

"I have power…I have power."

Fingertips against her cheeks caused Isabella to rouse from her daydream and with a demure smile Aria pushed back to the silk hood of the Princesses cloak before removing it completely. The touch of the woman's hands startling delightful as she caressed her shoulders, nails skimming across the sides of her small breasts through the fabric of her dress. Goose bumps rising along her arms, it caused her to shift nervously from foot to foot which only served to amuse the concubine. Isabella couldn't help but marvel at Aria's dark eyes so impossibly black they were the color of ink, platinum hair falling in loose wavy curls around her shoulders. The jewel encrusted bodice she wore shimmering in the candle light, loose-fitting skirt swirling around her feet as she came to stand in front of her.

The touch of her lips to Isabella's cheek felt amazingly sensual. With a pleased murmur Aria assessed her would-be client.

"I would hear you speak…Such a beautiful divine creature." She said softly.

Licking her lips Isabella professed her purpose.

"I would show my husband I am his equal…I desperately wish to please him. Find common ground."

Aria listened intently; she knew well enough who Isabella was. She also recognized price either of them risked should the knowledge of their encounter become public, but it was the urgency in the Princesses voice that ultimately compelled her decision.

"You wish for him to take notice of you, your exquisite light, to reach out and pluck you like ripe fruit…"

She nodded fervently. "Oh Yes, yes."

The rich sadness, the pure need in her voice captivated Aria. How enthralled she felt by the fey girl, so much so she pitied the Princes misuse of someone with such glowing potential. Taking Isabella's hand in hers she led her towards the large bed decorated in silk pillows and plush blanket tops. The back of her legs brushing the edge of the bed Aria gently touched the golden clasps on Isabella's shoulders, the velvet silkiness of her voice commanding in its power.

"I will give you what you desire…"

Head swimming, Isabella felt something awaken. A blinding light, it washed away any apprehension she may have ever felt.

Popping the clasps one at a time, Aria watched intently as the deep plum-colored dress slipped from her shoulders to pool at her feet. Standing near enough that Isabella could smell the tantalizing scent of her perfume; Aria trailed her hand down her side black eyes oddly luminous as they took in the sight of her naked flesh.

"Let us begin."

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In the beginning she had trembled, blushing uncontrollably. Aria had been wonderfully tolerant managing to give her the confidence to carry on. Eyes imploring her Isabella had no disappointed in her responses and Aria a most apt teacher had seemingly pulled the emotions from her like magic. Covering her neck with soft kisses, their breasts pressing together she gave a soft breathy cry the sensation passing through Isabella like warm ripples, setting her body aflame. Easing her back Aria pressed her back against the headboard willing her to stay kneeling. Every so slightly she spread her legs straddling her right thigh and pressed their pelvis's together smiling as the confused expression melted from Isabella's face. Slowly she began to roll her hips, grinding sinfully against her. Stoking the passion piece by piece until it was burning, she wrapped her arms around her neck bringing them ever closer. Isabella's body reacted, awakening to carnal touch, hips rocking in time. Hands timidly resting on Aria's shoulders she was happily encouraged to encircle her own arms around the other woman.

Fingers running through the back of Isabella's hair, Aria spoke with bated breath lips hovering just above her.

"Kiss me my sweet lovely Isabella, truly give yourself to me."

Almost instantly she felt her body enveloped by the rapturous feeling of building pleasure. Aria consumed by Isabella's sweet flavor, all softness and delicate fire dipped her hand between them causing Isabella to cry out a splendid, helplessly beautiful noise.

"Yes, yes that's it…Surrender."

Shaking violently Isabella's cries became one short scream of liberation. Cradling her face in both hands, Aria covered her with tender kisses across her closed eyes and cheeks finally ending with a single lingering kiss to her mouth. Isabella could only stare at her witless and lost in the moment. Lying back against the pillows Aria smiled feeling her curl against her, the experience bonding them in ways neither had expected.

Isabella could only describe what she felt as a profound sense of peace, and only when Aria spoke did she remember where they were.

"The Prince will dominate you at every turn if you let him…You must show him there is sweeter more divine things then pain. Once you gain control sweet girl, he will be the one to kneel to you."

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The hour had grown late and still Loki was scouring over ancient text in his library, pen in hand he made another notation along the edges of the paper. Scrolls and maps strewn across its massive top, some most were weathered and yellowed with age. When he became King he would first need to properly document the patterns of their enemies, more importantly how to gain control from the west. As far as he was concerned the entire Realm's territories belonged to Asgard and treaties or no treaties he intended to take them back. Reaching for the decanter he made to pour himself another drink of brandy when his eyes were drawn towards the door.

Pausing only for split second as the door was Isabella, she looked to Loki who only gave her a fleeting glance before returning to the scrolls. Head held high she crossed the impressive distance between herself and his desk, the only sound of her approach the soft padding of her bare feet on the cold marble. She wore a tea length lace dress of pale gold, its length stopping just above the knee, hair left loose in thick lavish curls that framed her face. Reaching the desk she moved between the Prince and his work, so shocked by the audacious display he could only look at her in astonishment. Hand's locked in mid motion he simply stared. Isabella bore an ethereal quality that robbed Loki of his senses.

Violet eyes smoldering, lips barely parted she remained silent. Loki who sat in the carved oak chair suddenly felt strange staring up at what he had taken to be nothing more than a pathetic weak girl. Only when she ghosted her polished nails along the hemlines of the dress, raising the material up around her hips did he come to a startling understanding, his body understanding faster then his mind would allow. This was no meek fragile thing before him, no, this was something else entirely.

Straddling his thighs, Isabella's hands began unlacing the ties of his leather trousers. Watching the bizarre display in stunned silence Loki refused to touch her keeping his hands out. Gaze never abandoning his, Isabella wrapped her hand around his length gently freeing it from its confines. Only when she pressed against him, hips rocking in a deliciously wanton fashion did Loki for the first time in his immortal life truly lose control.

He watched as she leaned her head back, body rising and falling gracefully as she moved against him. Soft pink mouth open in pleasure, he felt himself become impossibly hard as a soft moan escaped her throat. Arms encircling his neck she combed her fingers through the back of his hair. Without warning Isabella gripped his hair, giving it a forceful tug as her mouth crashed down on his. The deepening kiss would be his undoing, his last breaking point. The rhythm of her thrusts increasing and when her head craned back once more, this time in pure surrender he felt his body going with her. Burying his face against her throat he let out a loud guttural moan, holding her firmly against him he fought to regain his composure.

Taking deep breaths his grasp loosened and she able to move back. Looking down at her disheveled husband she cupped his face softly in her small hands, thumb tracing the decorative scarring on his chin before pressing a single kiss to his lips. Pulling back Isabella tugged the fabric of her dress back down around her hips, never a word exchanging between them as she turned padding towards the door. Alone, clothing unkempt Loki remained where he was. Running his fingers along his lower lip he could still taste her, smell the delicate fragrance of her perfume clinging to his shirt. Slouching back in the carved chair he closed his eyes folding his hands behind his head. The slight smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he pressed the tip of his tongue against his canine, yes he was quite impressed, very impressed indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N ((Explicit adult content.))**

She sat cross-legged on the four-poster bed, the crackling fire the only sound emanating through the room. Over and over again she replayed their encounter, body trembling in joy at the memory alone. O' the way he had looked at her face in such astonishment, in such awe of her boldness. She would gladly have him gaze at her in such way again, and for the first time she believed it were possible. Reveling in her new found liberation Isabella had reclined back on the warm fur blankets, her nude body rubbing against the luxurious texture. Hand coming up to cup her breasts she gave it an experimental squeeze. Thumb and forefinger imprisoning the nipple as Aria had taught her and rolled it until it pebbled, hardening beneath her touch. Drifting her touch lower to more intimate places she closed her eyes, hips rocking against the delightful touch. Back arching gently, she welcomed the sensation allowing her body to become lost to its song.

So lost to the melody Isabella failed to hear her husband arrive, and so taken by the display he'd remained just feet from the bed watching her pleasure herself, skin luminous and glowing. She looked as lovely; feverishly wild as she had in the library. Feet sliding against the blankets, squeezing her breast again harder this time before her hand snaked upward fingers curling in her hair. A powerful surge of longing a maddening sense of possession gripped the Prince as he listened to the breathy whimper become frantic and hopeless.

As she was nearing the abyss, sweet mouth open in rapture Loki stepped forward, placing his hand on her knee. Eyes flashing open in panic, she gasped attempting to close her legs, cheeks delightfully red. Placing his hands on her thighs Loki did not give her the chance instead he spread them gently, the action encouraging her to lay back. Licking his own lips he watched her shake with anticipation hands tangling in the covers above her head. She watched him curiously through half lidded eyes as he bowed his head and when the heat of his kiss touched against her smooth sex Isabella felt as if her entire body would burst. Loki intent on his task restrained her with his hands, delving deeper and sucked greedily knowing his exquisite little Isabella would not last long.

The frantic cries began anew and easily turned to screams.

Leaning back he ran his palms along the tops of her knees, nuzzling his cheek against her inner thigh as he looked towards her face. Soul wonderfully shattered by the pleasure she could do nothing but lay there for a long time feeling as if she were floating in a dreamlike state. When the bed dipped with his weight her eyes fluttering open as she realized she must have dozed. Wearing only a pair of sleep pants hair still slightly damp from the bath, Loki laid down beside her where Isabella sought refuge in his arms.

"O' Loki, my king, my sovereign." She whispered voice fragile with sleep, the flutter of her eyelashes against his neck.

Drawing lazy circles across her shoulder, he kissed Isabella's forehead knowing he would need to wait long before her breathing would become steadily more even. Absorbed in the silence he was confronted with the facts of their changing situation. It wasn't often that anything was capable of catching Loki unaware, but the last few hours had done just that, encouraged the God to see things in ways he'd never imagined possible. The only thing more surprising than his wife's new found courage was the lack of resistance he felt on his part to accept it. Try as he might, Loki felt no annoyance, no anger towards her little play of domination. In fact he felt the opposite. The only thing more striking than her display in the library had been how beautiful she'd looked locked in the troughs of passion, body begging for release, squirming as he pulled each cry and whimper of raw pleasure from her quivering lips.

He was intrigued to find out how his wanton little fey acted in the cold light of day. Imagination running wild Loki was already envisioning how to best reward her and to his delight, the possibilities were endless.

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The early morning sunlight streaming across the bed, shining against her face was the first thing to lure her towards the edge of consciousness. The feeling of Loki's mouth closing around her nipple, suckling the sensitive flesh until it hardened, was the second. If she'd had any fear of him being cross with her this erased any and all concerns, and she watched with curious eyes as he rose up covering her body with his and predictably Isabella found him already hard and wanting.

Kissing her neck, Loki's hand settling between her legs, fingers working in a slow torturous way that made her eyes close again in delighted anticipation. She felt him tense above her seconds before the chamber doors opened, and a young squire only a year younger than Isabella came in to the room. Closing the doors behind himself the young man froze in panic as he realized he'd interrupted them. Chin length ash blonde hair falling into his eyes as he averted his gaze, heart racing as he foolishly attempted to make apology.

"Pardon me your Grace….The Queen instructed me to tell you the news immediately."

Looking down at Isabella's face, studying the vague expression of embarrassment and frustration at the rude interruption, Loki remained where he was and to her shock buried himself inside her. Biting back a soft moan she turned her head against the pillows. Oh he was truly wicked, she thought.

"Well? What is so urgent?"

Loki knew his tone conveyed his dissatisfaction by the way the young man fumbled with his words.

"Your brother has announced Lady Sif is with child." He said, unintentionally looking up towards the bed. From where he stood he could only see the Princes back, muscles of his shoulders tense. He'd been in the taverns and heard enough stories from the soldiers to imagine what was happening.

Turning her face back, Isabella was the one to feel panic now. Searching Loki's face she assumed there would be anger, disappointment at the unexpected news. Instead of a scornful stare, the Prince instead addressed the young man.

"Stand where I can see you…" He commanded.

The squire's face became flush at the idea, and for a painful second he hesitated.

"Now! Do not make me ask again."

He listened as booted feet shuffled towards the bed and when he came in to full view, Loki was amused to find his eyes averted towards the ceiling, scarlet shame staining his cheeks. So damning was the embarrassment that it spread down his neck and beneath the collar of his tunic.

"Look. At. Me." The Prince commanded again, punctuating each word.

Clenching his jaw, forcing his eyes to meet the Princes, Riedel felt his body hum with an overwhelming sense of intimidation. Standing arms length away it was impossible for him to ignore Isabella, pinned beneath Loki she struggled to remain silent; long lilac hair spilling over the pillow, she was a vision of beauty.

He watched as Loki rudely ignored him, leaning down he whispered something to her. By the way her eyes widened, Riedel could only imagine what the Prince had said.

"Did she say anything else?"

This time the answer came more readily.

"Her sources say that Thor and his wife have quarreled, they have not shared the same bed in the last few nights."

Interesting… Loki thought.

Quarreling about him no doubt; impossible for Sif to contain her revulsion for him she was poisoning her own marriage all on her own. It was time her stubborn, bull-headed nature worked in his favor. The tiniest sliver of doubt was all it had taken, and with the right nurturing that hatred would become all-consuming, coupled with the stress the Kingdom was under it would drive them both to the brink, leaving Loki with the path of least resistance.

"Good, now get out…and the next time you barge in here unannounced I'll have you flogged."

Hands clasped firmly behind his back, Riedel looked beyond the Prince towards the decadent sight of the Princess. Loki's promise of punishment fell on deaf ears as Isabella's golden eyes shone brightly, meeting his for the briefest of moments. Any punishment would be a fleeting discomfort, should it mean he was able to see her again. Before the heavy ornate doors closed he was able to see the delicate turn of her face against the pillow, the echo of the Princes name on her lips.

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_Six months later…_

Anxiously she waited near the doors, hands wringing together nervously. Eyes glancing every few seconds towards the enormous golden sleigh bed, the echoing screams from down the hall chilling the very blood in her veins. Loki seemingly locked in a furious debate with his father ignored the painful cries of his Brothers wife. A day and a night now, she had been in labor, too long, much too long to endure such agony. Odin lay against the propped pillows eyes closed though he responded to Loki in hushed whispers, the trickster listening intently.

Heart twisting in misery for the other woman and fear for herself, Isabella willed the anguished cries to end, for either of their prayers to be answered. Despite being unwilling pit against one another by the ways of tradition and men, she was beginning to understand the other woman's battles with Loki and his disposition. Though in the last few months they'd finally begun to understand one another, she knew firsthand how difficult her husband could be even at the best of times he could be unimaginable. The muffled screaming from down the hall stopped, but Loki did not move from his chair, ear bent to hear Odin's weakened voice he gave it no heed. It was a heartbeat longer before the doors opened and Frigga came to stand beside her, hands drenched in blood, stained with haunting red.

Isabella earnestly implored her for news. "Lady Sif and the child…they are well?"

Frigga looking to her husband and son shook her head despondently.

"The child is still-born...Thor is beside himself, it was a boy."

Horrified Isabella covered her mouth, the other moving swiftly to her growing belly. What senseless tragedy, to have dreamed and hoped for so long only to be dealt such a cruel hand in the final hour. Drawing away from Frigga, she made her way to the bedside, interrupting the exchange of words between father and son.

"Your mothers returned." She said touching his shoulder gently.

Loki, looking to the grief-stricken expression his wife wore rose up, the unspoken question on his lips Isabella tried to answer as calmly as she could.

"It was a boy...it did not survive."

The God absorbed her words, a flimsy expression of sadness swiftly replaced by cold indifference.

"Then Fortune smiles upon us..."

Closing her eyes Isabella turned her face from him, inwardly disgusted. Seeing the flood of emotion Loki rose from his chair, taking her face in his hands he forced her to look at him.

"Like it or not, their ill-fated loss if our gain. We must all pay a price in the pursuit for greatness. Had the child lived and my brother taken the throne, you can trust _'Queen Sif'_ would happily see me sent away somewhere dark and immensely unpleasant…Until we provide Asgard with an heir of our own, I must do whatever is in my control to make sure the rightful King rises to power."

"But what if it happens to us?" She asked suddenly, choosing to ignore everything he had just said.

Loki sighed knowing what she asked and smoothing his knuckles against her cheek he chose to give her no words of comfort. Only the soft touch of his lips against hers before returning to his chair effectively dismissing her.

She knew too well how her husband could be, even at the best of times he could be unimaginable.

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Back braced against the chair, hands gripping the wooden arms until her knuckles blanched white, her forearms shook as she let out another harrowing scream of pain. A servant, wide eyes terrified, patted a cool damp cloth to her brow as the Queen knelt checking her progress with experienced hands. She pitied the poor girl, a taxing endeavor for the heartiest of women for such a doll-like thing such Isabella it could very well be her undoing.

"The child has stopped its decent; it moves no further, you must rest Isabella. You've done all you can."

Raising her head, Isabella shook it defiantly.

"I will not rest." She proclaimed.

The Queen glowered at the young woman, white gown stained and clinging to her body.

"Foolish girl, don't be ridiculous. You'll bleed out…there will be other opportunities."

Gritting her teeth, Isabella pressed her lips in a hard-line breathing rapidly through her nose.

"No! No! I will give Loki his son, I will give him his son."

Bowing her head, she pressed her chin against her chest, rebelliously denying defeat. She would not be denied the glorious sound of her child's first cry, and with every ounce of strength that remained Isabella gave one last attempt. Frigga watched, amazed as the child suddenly descended, compelled by its mothers sheer will to triumph. With steady hands she assisted in the last steps and with a clipped shout of agony Isabella gave a shuddering breathe as a deafening hush fell over the room soon after.

For a gut wrenching moment there was no movement, no sound, and cradling the child in her hands Frigga furiously began clearing its airway. A instant later as if by sheer miracle the infant took its first gasping breath, tiny fists shaking its small lungs producing a hearty wail. Tears filling her eyes, Frigga gave a shout a joy.

"A boy! It is a boy!"

Isabella smiled exhausted, hands trembling as she reached out weakly.

"Give him to me…give my son to me." She demanded softly.

Gently, the Queen presented Isabella with her hard-won prize, and the moment she held the child to her breast it quieted. Opening its eyes wider, she was astounded to see they were a mirrored image of her own, a deep rich gold. Crying, she kissed his damp hair.

"My sweet prince…"

From the end of the hall Loki and Thor watched as the servants fled the room in a flurry, their mother soon to follow face searching urgently for sight of the pair. Hand covering her mouth, she rushed towards them and it wasn't until she came just feet away, that Loki was able to see the tears streaming down her face were not of anguish but of pure joy.

Hardly unable to hide her happiness, Frigga took her sons face in her hands.

"A son! You have a son." She exclaimed, kissing him quickly before embracing him.

Loki pushed away from his mother and with two quick steps was running away from them and down the hall. Entering the chamber he nearly tripped over his own feet, eyes frozen on the sight of Isabella who beamed at him with such pride it made his chest grow tight.

Biting her lower lip in anticipation Isabella looked down from the precious bundle in her arms to Loki who still stood in the doorway, the normally menacing God dumbstruck by the simple sight of his first-born.

She smiled, speaking as if they were the only ones in existence.

"Loki... Would you like to meet your son?"

The God approached slowly, coming to peer down at the tiny bundle. The child was small but of healthy weight. Black downy hair matted to his head, a considerable amount of hair for a new born. Loki had never seen a more beautiful sight.

Taking a knee beside them, Loki kissed Isabella sweetly, hoping to express to her the abundant happiness he felt. Laughing against his mouth, she returned the gesture.

"Here Loki, take him…you should be the first to hold him."

Cautiously he took the offered bundle, peering down at the small child for a moment before he leaned down kissing Isabella again.

Voice hushed with admiration.

"My lovely Isabella…My beautiful Queen."

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_Harvest…_

Isabella never knew her heart could be filled with so much love. Holding her new born son she ran her fingers through his unusually thick black curls, watching the infant push his tongue in and out, and stunning wide golden eyes peering around. Taking his tiny hand in hers she brought it to her lips, kissing it tenderly.

"My magnificent little Prince…You are mine to treasure always." She whispered, smiling with unbridled happiness.

A soft rapping at the door drew her attention away from her son, and when she looked to the source of the noise Isabella felt her breath catch in her throat.

Lord Cormack was dressed in a clean attire, meaning he had been in the Palace long enough to change his riding cloak and boots. The steel-gray of his eyes made all the more intimidating by the dark navy color of his tunic. Bowing her head, Isabella averted her eyes to the floor. Only to be startled by her father's hand halting the familiar action.

"The future Queen of Asgard bows to no man, not even her father."

Wholly confused, Isabella felt awkward disregarding such an ingrained habit, but she did her best to meet his gaze and was further shocked by the feeling of his kissing her brow.

"I am proud of you Isabella…"

Opening and closing her mouth Isabella was at a loss for words, never had her father praised her and before she could take pleasure in the unprecedented moment she realized with a heavy heart that he had come alone.

"Where is my sister?"

Unable to hide her disappointment Isabella stepped away from him.

"You could not allow her even this one happiness, you hate her that much?"

Cormack's reply was not one she expected.

"Do not lay blame at my feet; I'd assumed she'd told you the news in one of her letters. A suitor of wealth, who held no reservations of her past indiscretions made a proposal, to my utter amazement Sonya was cooperative. She's already traveled to the south with her husband, every village in the realm is buzzing over the Princes birth. I'm sure you will see them at the blessing."

Conflicted, Isabella regarded the news skeptically; she'd received nothing of the sort, if she thought back she'd never received anything from Sonya. She couldn't imagine her sister complying with such a proposal; she'd always sworn her heart belonged to John. But then perhaps Sonya had finally accepted the cold hard truth, John was never returning as he'd promised. It was quite possible her sister had simply decided to move on. Unable to deny the small twinge of hurt it brought her, Isabella felt it was best to drop the issue for now. There was no sense in arguing over something she could not control.

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A dream, she was dreaming.

The dew clung to the grass, and shimmered in the pale moonlight like fallen stars from the heavens, surrounded by impossibly tall white oaks their massive branches swaying in the wind groaning with the effort. Back against the earth, limbs heavy she felt as if her body were weighted down by stones. Incredibly heavy she struggled to unfurl her arms.

_Isabella…Isabella…_

The distant voice echoing, rippling as if traveling down a long vast passage way. As it grew in its urgency other inaudible voices joined its chorus and she closed her eyes tightly against what may come. The earth trembling beneath her as if in protest of the siren call and all at once the distant whisper became solid and whole.

"Hear me sister."

Opening her eyes, Isabella felt her heart clench tightly.

Mirror images, Sonya lie beside her eyes faraway and distant. Curled on her side she was close enough to touch but no matter how hard she tried Isabella's limbs would not obey. Wraithlike she appeared paled in the night and Isabella fought to find her voice.

"I hear you, but you're so far way Sonya…What's happening."

A lingering silence passed between them her sisters face devoid of emotion before the words came painfully slow in there delivery.

"I will not be able to come to you again…He will not let me."

"Who Sonya...Who?"

The ground gave another trembling quake her sister's voice became gripped with terror.

"No, no…no." She whispered, tears running freely down her cheeks.

Immobile Isabella watched helplessly as her sister looked beyond her to something she could not see, the terror growing and she suddenly reached out, the icy grip of her hand encircling Isabella's arm.

"You must not be here when he comes…You must wake up Izzy, wake up now!" She shouted.

The swaying trees became still, the wind eerily silent as if the forest itself held its breath in fear a shadowed figure tall and foreboding stood at her sister's side. With frightening speed it lashed out, a white hand gripping Sonya's arm. Long lithe fingers adorned with silver rings it ripped her away with unimaginable strength, so terrible in its raw power the dark entity pulsed and writhed. The hand again extending out, she could feel the blistering cold heat of its touch as the barest whisper of its nails grazed her skin. With a blood curdling scream of terror she severed the connection they shared just as an opposing force tore her from the nightmarish landscape.

Plummeting, Isabella felt herself falling down an endless abyss her screams torn from her throat as the crushing weight was lifted and Loki's voice fought through the darkness.

"ISABELLA!"

Body shaking with the expended energy, his arms wrapped fiercely around her resting his cheek against the crown of her head; he could feel her breath frightened and quick. Looking around them he was relieved to find they were standing inside their chambers, though the splintered smoldering remains of white oak were strewn across the room, wisps of gray smoke curling up in to the air evidence it had been more than a strange dream. The knowledge of what he'd witnessed instilling a deeply rooted sense of jeopardy, if he had been even a fraction of second slower it would have been too late. Head pounding he racked his memory for anything that would shed light on what he'd seen.

Whatever they'd encountered was old, older and stronger than anything he'd come across in nearly a millennia. This assessment both intrigued and troubled Loki for a number of reasons most of which they had neither the time nor the luxury to entertain.

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